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“I’m sorry. It was either that or tell you that he declined. I needed more time to chip away at him.” He laughs. “Aside from the fictional excuse drafting, working on Park’s team is my nerdy omega dream come true. There are so few teams focusing on our issues, and most of them are run by alphas only in it for the Big Pharma paycheck.
“But Dr. Park actually cares. He’s kind of an asshole sometimes, but he’s passionate about giving omegas power over their bodies. You’re not recording this are you? Please don’t write that I called him an asshole.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep that off the record. The other stuff, though, that’s why I want to interview him.” I feel energized in a way I haven’t in a while. “Knowledge is power, and we know so little. Meanwhile, we know every mundane detail about alpha biology.”
Reese beams. “Exactly!”
“If you’re interested, I’d love to interview you on your own sometime. Omega researchers are pioneers in the field. You’ll probably be in textbooks someday.”
“See, I knew I liked you.”
The elevator doors open, and he leads me through a pair of glass sliding doors, past an anteroom with a handwashing station and a row of lab coats hanging from hooks, and into an open workspace the size of a small theatre or auditorium.
“Welcome to the Department of Omega Research. This is our main research hub, but we have several dedicated labs for more specialized research.”
“More specialized than this?”
A row of industrial-sized freezers hum on our left. Vent hoods loom over rectangular workstations orbited by researchers working with futuristic machinery I’m definitely not smart enough to ask about.
A few of the researchers look our way and smile or wave. A couple alphas stare openly as they breathe in my direction. My skin starts to itch, and my anxiety returns.
“Dalton, close your mouth and stop studying our guest,” Reese says.
Dalton snaps his mouth shut with an audible pop and an apologetic look, then turns back to his station.
“Do I reek?” I whisper.
“No. They’re just used to my scent, and I’m pretty sure Dalton is due for a rut soon. He’s usually much better behaved. Anyway, our primary focus is to develop effective treatments to allow omegas to make choices about their lives and bodies without being swayed by their hormones. That’s the PR answer, anyway.”
“What’s the real one?”
“We think the current suppressants on the market suck, and want to make our own.”
“Where can I sign up?” I joke.
“Right? We’re not quite ready for human trials, or any trials for that matter. But we recently discovered a new gene present in some omegas resistant to traditional suppressants.”
I grin, giddy with hope. “This is amazing. You’re going to change lives.”
“Make sure you put that in the article so I can send it to my mom. Maybe that’ll spare me from another lecture about how I should be focusing on finding an alpha and starting a family.” He pretends to gag. “Gross.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll write something for her to frame.” The alpha leading this lab isn’t the story. Reese is. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Reese explains more as he ferries me from one workstation to the next. “We’d love to get more omegas into the lab, but unfortunately, there just aren’t that many candidates. That’s my pet project. Recruitment.”
“Tell me more,” I ask as he slows to a stop at the last door on the left; Dr. Park’s office, according to the engraved placard.
“Oh, I will, hopefully over brunch?” He knocks on the door.
“I’m in.” I just hope I’ll be interested in eating.
“Dr. Park? I’ve got Elliott Bates here for you.”
My stomach twists with nerves.
“Don’t worry, you’ve got this,” Reese whispers.
The door opens, and a familiar scent crashes over me—ocean and vetiver. My heart races. My body heats so fast I feel dizzy. My ears ring. Am I having a psychotic break?
